


Changes in the Neighborhood

by monroesherlock



Series: 3rd Shift in Hell's Kitchen [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Claire Temple Deserves Better, Claire Temple is a Saint, Gen, POV Outsider, Protective Frank Castle, Protective Steve Rogers, backdoor medical practice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monroesherlock/pseuds/monroesherlock
Summary: Claire’s neighbors are bound to notice all the wayward superheroes wandering in and out of her apartment right?





	Changes in the Neighborhood

Zach’s never paid that much attention to The Nurse before. Chick leaves early in the morning, comes home late, and frankly, he’s got better things to do than tracking his neighbor's comings and goings all damn day. Really. Besides, she apparently doesn’t appreciate when people knock to offer a late night danish in an effort to be polite. As a matter of fact, Zach used to think she didn’t like people at all. 

But she’s a definitely a nurse (the blue scrubs and nasty vomit smell make it so obvious) so that can’t be true. You have to like people if you’re a nurse, right? Nurses like people. Maybe it's him? He was trying out a rather unfortunate body spray back then.

Her hours must have changed though because she doesn’t leave nearly as early and drags herself in sometimes at 3 or 4 in the morning. If anything, she’s gotten even grumpier. He’s considering inviting her to his morning yoga class (it’s very relaxing but he’s really not interested in having a door slammed in his face again.)

The strangest thing, however, is the recent, ahem, change to her embargo on visitors. 

You see, The Nurse doesn’t have a boyfriend (or girlfriend, he checked). Zach’s pretty damn sure of that. Boyfriends are easy to spot always leaving early in the morning looking like they’ve committed some kind of crime (maybe he’s projecting. Zach doesn’t have the best track record with boyfriends himself) but with Nurse? Nothing. Nada. There was that one guy, (tall, white, sad eyes, sunglasses at night, but still smoking hot) who came around every so often but he’s tapered off to once in a blue moon for what Zachary assumes is a conjugal visit and yeah, he’d have a hard time giving that up to but really, do fuck buddies ever actually work out? 

Ahem, anyway. It’s the recent activity that’s been interesting. Nurse’s apartment has become somewhat of a hotspot for late night activity. 

Every time Zachary gets home from teaching his class, it seems a different guy is coming or going. Zach can relate. Sometimes after a long dry spell, he lets himself go a little wild for a time to make up the difference. It’s human nature really. 

Maybe he’ll invite her to a yoga class after all. Nothing wrong with increasing your flexibility. 

 

-

 

Turns out Nurse’s real name is Claire and she has a brand new door. Technically two brand new doors. There was a break in, the neighbors say, and apparently, Claire was hurt. He sends her a get well card and waits the customary week before knocking on her door to formally check in. He’s not a savage. 

She answers it in a tizzy, eyes tired, and blood smeared across her collar. 

“Um,” Zachary says. He doesn’t like blood. This was a terrible idea.

“Yeah?” She presses. “Do you need something - I see you, Frank! Don’t pull your stitches! Frank!” She shouts over her shoulder.

“I’m your neighbor-”

“Yeah, Zach. I got your card. With the bear. Sweet. What do you want?” She deadpans. There’s a fresh bruise on her cheek and Zach suddenly feels very uncomfortable. What did he just walk into? 

“Yes. That was me. I heard about your incident. I wanted to make sure you were okay so I brought donuts,” he holds out the plate. “They’re local. Matcha. It’s the hottest thing right now. All kinds of health benefits.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She looks distracted, eyes darting across the hallway. “They look great.” She takes the plate from his hands and waves him off. “I don’t mean to eat and run but I’m right in the middle of something.”

“No! It’s fine. You sound busy. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and well, you’re okay!” Zach gives her his best imitation of a smile and scurries away.

So not post-dry spell sexcapade then. Claire’s involved in some real shit.

-

“Um, hi?” Zach fumbles for his keys while refusing to take his eyes off the solid wall of man standing before him. Normally, after a few drinks, he’d be all over that but he’s way too sober to ignore the obvious Glock sticking out of the guy’s pants. He’s got long shaggy brown hair and tired blue eyes. His lips twitch slightly as he looks Zach over, disinterest clear on his face. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s fucking massive.

“You got a cig?” He says, voice gruff.

Zachary blinks twice before his brain catches up with his ears. “What? No. I’m a yoga instructor. I don’t smoke.”

“Mm.” He says like that explains everything. 

Claire comes up the stairs then looking bone tired as usual.

“The fuck you do to yourself now?”

Brick House shrugs and hands her a small paper bag. He knocks her shoulder gently and leaves. 

She thumbs it open and lets out a string of curses. “Damn him. He knows I’m on a diet.” Whatever it is smells amazing.

Zach never finds out what's in the bag though.

He tries not to let it keep him up at night

\--

“Uh, did I see you on the news once?” Zach asks carefully two days later.

“Do you think you saw me on the news, once, kid?” The guy says and Jesus, his fucking face looks like a goddamn coloring book it’s so banged up. What kind of fight do you get in to have your face look like that? There’s a cut bleeding sluggishly on his forehead, a trail of blood dripping down his cheek. He seems rather unbothered considering how fucked up he looks.

“Nope. Sure didn’t.” Zach yanks his front door open and slams it shut. Good lord. What if Claire’s, like, a crime lord or something? Or a Mob Doctor? Should he call the police? If you see something say something, right?

Somehow he doesn't think the solid hunk of killer outside his door wouldn’t feel the same way.

\--

Zach keeps an eye on Claire. Her door clicks sometimes during the night like someone(s) coming and going.

Maybe he should move?

But he loves his tiny apartment. It has exposed brick and a great view of the city. It’s only a short walk from his study. He’d have to kill someone to find this kind of real estate again. No. He’s not moving. He’ll just ignore her. 

\--

“Um. Hi.”

“Hi.” Steve fucking Rogers is in the hallway. Captain goddamn America is standing right in front of him holding a bundt cake. It’s poorly frosted but it smells good. 

“Are you here for Claire?” Zach hates how awestruck he sounds.

“Hm? Yes. She’s a friend.”

‘What the fuck?’

“Oh. That’s nice. She works weird hours tho so...”

“I’m comfortable waiting. I figured I would be.” He flashes Zach a blinding smile before rocking back on his heels and attending to the door again.

Zach can’t hold it, he has to ask.

“Um, so how do you know Claire?”

“From around.” The Captain says.

‘Around? Around where??’ “Oh. Okay. Interesting.”   

“Steve?” It’s Claire, coming up the steps again. “The hell?”

“Happy Birthday.” Captain ‘Steve’ America says thrusting the bundt cake into her face. “Sam actually made it so it actually tastes good. Buck and I just put the frosting on. The others will be by later.” 

“Amazing. Good to see Team Cap still working together.” Claire keys into her apartment and Steve follows, chatting her up all the while. Zack is shook™. 

But at least she’s not a mob doctor right? Clearly, she’s a good guy. 

\--

It is two in the morning and someone just broke into his apartment. 

“Um?” Zach says, the glass of almond milk slipping from his fingers and crashing to the floor.

The guy looks just as confused as Zach feels. “Um, Heil Hydra?”

“UM??”

Next thing Zach knows the guy’s being tackled by the fucking Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and is this going to be a recurring thing?

“Should I call the police or is this a thing that you guy’s’ll take care of because I have an early morning class.”

“Zach! Are you okay?” There’s Claire with a flashlight and a gun, phone cradled next to her ear.

“I just wanted some milk.” He points uselessly to the ruined glass. 

“Come with me - watch the glass - and we’re gonna go across the hall okay?” He follows numbly. She tugs him along, sits him down and waits. “They’ll handle everything. Let’s get you looked over.”

“That’s the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And Captain America was at your door. Oh my god you’re like the opposite of a mob doctor. A hero doctor. Holy shit, Claire.”

“Next door, Zach.”

\--

After two mugs of tea and assurance from a very gruff Captain America that the situation would be handled, Claire sends him on his way. 

His apartment's been cleaned and there's a new carton of almond milk in his fridge. 

“Amazing.” He pauses for a moment before pulling out the carton and pouring himself a new glass. After a few seconds of thought, he reaches into the cupboard for the Baileys. No one has to know. Besides, if he rots his liver his next door neighbor could probably save him. 

It's good to have a nurse in the neighborhood.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr.](http://bittlebarnes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
